The Tale of The Savior's Savior
by SimplyWritten
Summary: The Tale of The Dragonborn is known by all. A great hero who saves his world. But what about the character who saves him? This tale isn't about the Dragonborn; this tale is about the woman who saved the savior. Willow is a woman from present day America who is transported to a completely different world where she meets the Dragonborn and saves him.
1. Chapter 1

_The Tale of The Dragonborn is known by all. A great hero who saves his world. _

_But what about the character who saves him?_

_This tale isn't about the Dragonborn; this tale is about the woman who saved the savior. _

_**Present Day, United States, Los Angeles**_

She was unconscious. Her ankle was chained to a wall while her hands were handcuffed to one another. Her captors stared at the immobile girl. "What does he want with her?" one of the men questioned, glancing at his fellow predators with their black ski masks concealing their identity. Counting him, there was four in the group. He was the one with average build; the one who actually lured the girl to the van. The guy to his right was short and stocky; he was the driver. The guy next to the driver was tall and lean; basically, the one who had to chase the girl down before she could escape. Finally, the man behind him was a massive mountain. He was the one who kept her sedated and under control. He was also, technically, the leader of the group.

But it wasn't the leader who answered his question; it was the runner who had the sick smile on his face. "The man has been working on this time travelling gambit. Send pests away. A way to eliminate his enemies," he answered, glancing down at his watch.

The average man gulped and studied the broken girl. She was tall and lean but, when he talked to her, she didn't seem like a threat. Why was the man concerned with a girl who had nothing? "How is she an enemy?" the lure asked.

The lean man snorted. "Big man killed her family. This girl has been trying to nab his ass to the wall," he answered before the big guy cleared his throat. The lean man's cruel smile morphed into a sheepish one. "Sorry, Monster," he murmured before glancing at the average guy. "You'll find out more rookie as we do this more often."

A cell phone rang, ending any chance of conversation. Monster answered it and spoke in hushed tones. As quickly as the phone rang, the conversation was done. He tucked the phone back into his pocket. "Alright, Slim. Grab the girl. Boss wants us downstairs," he informed as he tossed the keys to the lean leerer. The man caught them with a smirk. As he freed the girl from the wall and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the rookie noticed the skin around her eyes twitch as if she were starting to come around. The trip out of the musky room and down the metal steps was quiet. The girl didn't twitch and the men were all feeling something different about the situation. Disgust. Fear. Excitement. Ready.

Monster opened the wet door that led to the chamber where the boss was waiting. A metal portal sat in the center. The boss was typing something into a computer and a hum started. Slim tossed the girl to the floor in front of the portal. Glancing over his glasses, the boss looked up at his employee with a blank face. "Why isn't she awake?" his cold voice demanded.

Slim gestured towards Monster. "The dosage he gave her should be wearing off soon," he informed. As the portal warmed up, they all watched the girl as her body began to twitch and grimace. Her eyelids slowly opened, blonde eyelashes revealing confused blue eyes. She tried to push herself up to a sitting position but the boss grabbed her chin so she was forced to stare into his hard face.

"Hello Willow Williams. I fear this isn't how I wanted this to end but I'm afraid you've left me no choice," he informed as comprehension began to fill her eyes. She jerked her face away from him and fell back. Coughing, she looked up in order to find the rookie. Her gaze pierced him with accusation. "Don't look at him for help. He's one of my henchmen," the boss stated coolly as he, once again, snagged her attention. "I killed your parents due to the debt they owed me. Your brother got in the way. Now, I don't need more blood on my hands so I'm just going to send you away so someone else can have your blood on your hands. Understood?" he briefly explained as he looked back to the computer to press a button. The portal burst to life with colors flashing and swirling.

She tried to get up to escape but Slim caught her and shoved her closer to the flashing colors. He forced her to her feet. Unfortunately, because of where she was stationed, she was unable to see the commotion going on behind her. There was a gun shot, a cry of pain, a curse, and shuffling. Slim looked over his shoulder but didn't hesitate to shove her towards the colors. Unable to fight the momentum, she went forward and cried out for help. More bullets sounded but she was already falling. Twisting around, she saw Monster look through the portal with regret as police flooded the building. He couldn't save her. The portals lights flickered as the machine broke down.

She was gone.

_**4E 201, Skyrim, Falkreath Hold**_

She couldn't focus on anything. Everything was flashing around her. Was this all just a dream? Why was this happening to her? The lights were starting to get brighter, so bright that she actually had to shut her eyes. Suddenly, she heard, felt, smelt, saw, even tasted, nothing. Then everything flooded through her body. The sound of leaves rustling and birds singing. The feelings of soft grass beneath her and pain vibrating throughout her body. There was the smell of crisp, fresh air free of pollution or musk of an empty room. She dared to open her eyes and saw towering trees and sun peeking through the leaves. And taste? She tasted blood. Pushing herself up, she grew dizzy and retched. Blood and bile fell away from her mouth, leaving her empty and aching. Wiping her mouth on her long sleeve, she looked around, trying to understand the world she was in.

No familiarity came to her. Where the hell was she?

Willow rolled to her hands and knees and crawled to the nearest tree. Pulling herself up, her legs trembled. Where on Earth was she? Stumbling forward, she felt determination – along with additional vomit – welled up inside of her. She fought the vertigo and stumbled along, searching for something that would save her.

As the handcuffed female stumbled, she caught sight of a small cabin. Moving towards it, she sent a brief prayer to God. _Please let this be someone who can help me._

When she came to the front of the cabin, an old woman was sitting in a chair, black robes sagging on her body. What weird attire. The woman looked up at her with curious eyes. "It's so nice to have a visitor. You don't need to worry about little old me, though," she spoke, an accent thick in her throat. Willow simply stared and shook her head. Where was she? Scotland?

"Um… I actually need help. Where am I?" she asked hesitantly, as if she were dreading to hear the answer.

The old woman smiled. "You're in the Falkreath Hold, dear. Just Northwest of Helgen and Southwest of Riverwood. What hold are you from, dearie?"

Willow simply stared. Falkreath? Helgen? Riverwood? Hold? What the hell? "Um… North America?" she questioned.

The woman's gaze turned to confusion. "I'm quite sure I know where that is. I don't look at a map much," she admitted before looking down at Willow's hands. "Why, what contraption is that?" she demanded, her wrinkled hand stretching to the metal links. The woman then jumped away. "Are you a criminal? A werewolf?" she demanded, her eyes, once curious and open, now venomous and threatening.

Willow put her hands up. "No, no. I was a prisoner. These men just snatched me off the road, in my city, and wanted to keep me bound. Please, I need help."

Balls of light formed in her hands. "I won't help a bound person! I bet you were a sneaky thief! You get away now! I'm warning you!" the old woman screamed. Willow backed away from her, but not quick enough. The woman took a stance and was prepared to attack until an arrow sung through the air. The woman fell back into her chair, the balls of light diminishing. Willow gasped as she looked over her shoulder to see who attacked the woman.

A man with sharp features, pale skin, and pale hair made his way towards Willow, his light eyes trained on the fallen witch. As he got closer, Willow noted that his bow was drawn and he had pointed ears. "Wh-who are you?" she demanded.

He glanced at her and studied her disarrayed appearance. "Faendal of Riverwood. Who are you, stranger?" he asked.

Willow gulped and watched his bow. "Willow. Please don't kill me," she pleaded as she struggled to stand.

Without sparing her a glance, he looted the old woman and peeked inside the cabin. "Nasty witch. No gold. Just ingredients," he snorted in disgust before focusing on the tall woman who was trying to inch away. "I'm not going to kill you, girl. What are you anyway? You aren't a sister elf. Clearly not Argonian, Khajiit, or Orc. You don't look Redguard. Your skin is too fair. You must be Breton, Imperial, or Nord," he concluded.

The young woman looked at the… elf. Argonian? Redguard? Nord? Was she in Wonderland, or something? She'd go along with it, though. Nords were Vikings, weren't they? "Nord," she answered.

The man nodded his head as if he knew all along. "I thought so, with that fair hair. You're being rather nice to me, though… I suppose since you're bound you'd be nice to anyone," he concluded as he put his arrow back in the quiver. "Odd bindings. Is that a keyhole, though?" he asked curiously as he turned her wrists up so he could study the cuffs.

"Yes," she answered, a sense of hope filling her.

He grunted as he studied the small holes. "I believe I can pick it," he informed as he pulled out a thin knife and pick. It seemed like forever until the first cuff unsnapped. It seemed like even longer for the second cuff to unsnap. The elf had a proud smile on his face, though. "I still have my skill. I use to be a thief, you know?" he absentmindedly said as he hand the cuffs to her. "Now… what hold are you from?" he asked curiously.

Willow grew uneasy. "I'm actually not from around here… is it possible you could lead me to the closest town?" she asked, hope in her voice.

Faendal looked around uneasily but then his eyes lit up. "On one condition. You talk to Camilla Valerius and convince her that Sven is not fit for her," he bargained.

The task sounded easy enough. She nodded her head. "Agreed."

The triumphant smile on Faendal's face caused Willow to wonder what she had gotten herself into.

X-

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of this story. I'm very excited about this and hope it goes the way I picture it.


	2. Chapter 2

Willow walked behind Faendal with frustration. All around her was woods. It seemed like they had been walking for at least an hour or two. Occasionally, Faendal would make her stop and be quiet as he shot at a rabbit or fox. The silence, however, was getting at her, making her insane. She was from L.A.; silence wasn't something that she was use to. "Faendal. Where are we?" she questioned, wrapping her long arms around her trim middle. The elf looked up from his process of putting a rabbit in a sack.

"Riverwood. The town I call home. It's not too much farther. I'm the village's hunter, which is why I wandered out into this forest, in the first place," he informed as he tossed the bag over his shoulder and continued forward. He moved towards the small river they were walking alongside. Holding his bow above his head, he waded across the slow moving water. Willow hesitantly followed. The water made her sluggish and she slipped after a few steps but the bank was right in front of her. Going from waist deep water to ankle deep, she shivered. Even though the sun was in the middle of the sun, the water was chilled.

"What's in Riverwood?" she questioned as he put his hand above her elbow to help her onto the grassy bank.

"Not much. Gerdur's mill, Camilla and her brother's shop, Sleeping Giant Inn," he listed. "Riverwood is part of the Whiterun Hold. Jarl Balgruuf is our jarl. He hasn't joined sides yet but I have a feeling he is leaning towards the Legion," Faendal informed.

Jarl? Legion? Those weren't words you really heard in the good ole U.S. "Legion?" she questioned.

Faendal looked over his shoulder in surprise. "You be a Nord yet you have not heard of the war?" suspicion filled his voice.

Willow looked at him sheepishly. "The men who held me prisoner kept me for quite some time," she stated, acknowledging it was the truth but not.

Faendal nodded his head in understanding. "Damn bandits. Terrorizing the women and children," he muttered angrily. "Well… Jarl Ulfric shouted the High King to death. This led to his rebellion. Stormcloaks are under Ulfric's direction while the Imperials are under Jarl Elisif's and General Tullis' direction."

Willow nodded her head as if she truly understood. "Whose side are you on?" she questioned.

He snorted. "The war is a petite civil war. However, if I am forced to choose a side, the Imperials will have my support," he informed with an angry shake of his head. "Nords don't like elves. We're thought as filth to them," he added with a snarl.

Biting her lip, she studied his tense frame. "I think you've been extremely helpful. I don't see why elves are looked at with distaste. I mean, we all live here, shouldn't we all get along?" she stated. After all, she told him she was Nord. Maybe he was actually leading her to her death. Then again, they were on a path and she was going to help him with his love life. Surely he wouldn't kill her.

Faendal looked at her with a look of wonder. "Why… thank you, friend. If only all Nords felt the way you do," he murmured. Focusing on the path, he pointed towards a bridge. "We're nearly to Riverwood. I'll take you to the Trader, where you'll meet Camilla. Help her realize what a fool Sven is. After you help us, she'll probably be able to slip you some supplies. You can then see Alvor about helping you get a dagger so you can protect yourself," he instructed. "Do some work around town and you could get yourself some gold so you can pay for anything you need. As much as I want to help you, I have very little. The town doesn't have much, either," he instructed with a sad note in his voice. She nodded in understanding as they crossed over the bridge and walked down the straight path to the town. "That's the Riverwood Trader," he stated, pointing to a two-story building. I'm going to my home to skin these rabbits and get the meat ready for the Inn," he informed as they stood outside of a building. He pointed towards an area with a bunch of logs. "After you're done with Camilla, you can probably find me over there to let me know what Camilla says," he added before patting her shoulder and departing.

Watching the elf leave, Willow took a deep breath. At first, when she saw the old lady, she figured she was just unconscious. But… now it was starting to feel real. Normally her dreams weren't so vivid. She shouldn't be able to look down at her hands and she the cuts from when she was attempting to tend to her mother's garden. Yet, there they were. Bright red and angry.

"Woman," a smooth voice behind her demanded. Willow looked over her shoulder and then tilted her head up. A broad chested man with long blonde hair was looking down at her with suspicion. "What did that damn elf say to you? Did he tell you about Camilla?" he questioned furiously.

Willow assumed that this was the man who also wanted Camilla's love and affection. "Yes. But he told me I could get supplies from her," she explained, the small white lie tasting foul in her mouth.

The man nodded his head proudly as if Camilla's accomplishments were because of him. "That she will. I thought he was sending you to talk to her. He has been clinging to her like a fly on a steed's ass. Thinks she'll fall for him but she knows a real man when she sees one," the man boasted with a smirk. "I am Sven the Bard. I perform at the Inn," he added as if he was famous because he had such a job.

Willow just nodded her head. "Usually, two people who spend time together develop feelings for each other," she reasoned, causing his proud eyes to narrow.

"You have a point but Faendal isn't good enough for Camilla, especially with him being an elf," he grunted before those narrowed eyes caught a wicked sparkle. "If you deliver this letter, saying it's from Faendal, I'll reward you with septims. She won't want his friendship after reading this," he swore.

Septims? Was he going to give her sewage for a reward? Studying the letter, Willow took it with a nod. Now, she had proof that would work in Faendal's favor. Sven was clearly a jerk with trying to frame an innocent man. Camilla wouldn't give him the time of day and Willow would repay a favor. "Sure thing," she agreed, taking the envelope out of his hand. His eyebrow burrowed in confusion but he nodded his head.

"I'll be at the Inn. Find me when it's done," he stated with a nod before stepping around her to walk towards the building next door. What a demanding jerk, she thought to herself before stepping up to the door of the Trader.

A woman with dark hair and brown eyes looked up towards the door when Willow came in. "Good day, stranger. What are you searching for?" the woman questioned from the chair in front of the fire. The woman studied the fair one. "What odd clothing for a woman to wear," she commented.

Willow looked down at her black skinny jeans and green long sleeve shirt. Looked normal to her. Then again, the woman was wearing a yellow dress that looked like it was made of uncomfortable fabric.

"Well, I'm looking for Camilla?" Willow stated, figuring she'd tackle her appearance after this conversation.

The woman in the dress smiled. "That would be I. What can I do to help you?" Camilla questioned curiously.

Willow slightly smiled before speaking. "Well Faendal saved me from a witch in the woods –" she started but was interrupted by the woman jumping from her chair with worried eyes.

"Faendal? Is he uninjured?" Camilla questioned quickly.

Startled by the swift change from carefree to worried, Willow put up her hands in an "I surrender" fashion.

"Yeah. He's fine. He told me I could get supplies from you," she stated before adding. "He also mentioned that he wanted me to talk to you about Sven."

Camilla sighed in relief and sank back into the wooden chair. "Him and Sven both court me. Why did he want you to talk to me about this?" she asked in confusion.

Without asking, Willow went forward and took the other seat at the table. "Faendal told me about how he has strong feelings for you and wants to see you happy. He understand if you don't want him but he doesn't want Sven to marry because Sven is wrong for you," Willow stated, before hesitating. "I have to agree. Sven is a jerk. I just met him and he wanted me to deliver this letter and say it's from Faendal," Willow added, waving the letter in the air.

"What does it say?" Camilla asked and Willow handed it to her.

Willow looked around from where she sat. The windows and fire lit up the room fairly well. On the shelves behind the counter were books, bottles, food, and some clothing.

Camilla's insulted gasp snagged her attention. The woman looked outraged. "Sven gave you this?" she questioned. Willow nodded her head and Camilla crumbled the paper and threw it in the fire. "How dare he! That Nord is an unselfish, unworthy brute!" she exclaimed angrily.

Willow nodded her head. "I had a feeling he was a jerk," she commented.

Camilla gave her a questioning look. "A… jerk? Yes… I suppose so. Faendal would never do such a thing," she stated, her voice confident about Faendal's character.

"No. I mean, he saved my life and I'm a complete stranger. He also told me all sorts of good things about you." Willow leaned in to speak with a conspirators whisper. "I think he's in love with you, if you ask me."

"Oh, Mara… I feel the same but was worried he'd think I was rushing the courtship," Camilla admitted.

Willow smiled. "I think he's worried about the same thing. You should tell him how you feel," Willow advised.

Camilla's face brightened at the idea. "I think I will," she announced before bursting out of her chair and looking out the window. "I know he went hunting today. He usually runs home, puts away his kills, sometimes cleans them, but he'll be back within the hour. He always comes by for supper. Perhaps you'll join us and my brother?" Camilla questioned.

Willow gnawed on the inside of her cheek. "Well… I would really like that. Especially since I'm not even sure how to get home," she admitted.

The shop-keeper looked over her shoulder towards the reed figured woman still seated. "Why were you out in the woods?" she questioned.

Willow sighed. "I was kidnapped and just ended up there. But, no one has heard of the place I come from. Faendal advised that I try and set up myself here," she lamented. Surely she'd wake up from this nightmare. She'd wake up and find herself in that musky, dark room.

Camilla frowned, sympathy filling her eyes. "No need to fret. I'll help you get set up here," the woman promised.

X-

I know this chapter may seem like it dragged on but I really think it's important. After all, Willow is getting connections in Riverwood. The next chapter she'll be doing more exciting things. I also think the Dragonborn will show up. So please! Stick around. If you have any questions, suggestions, or criticisms, please make a comment. I'd greatly appreciate it!


End file.
